


4 Times Dean Doesn't Say I Love You, And One Time He Does

by fandomsandfries



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Angry Dean, Brotherly Affection, Dean Deserves to be Happy, Dean Sings, Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester Use Their Words, Dean is a Sweetheart, Dean raised Sam, Do not mess with Dean's sammy, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Hey Jude, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Impala, Injured Sam, Jealous Sam Winchester, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Loving Dean, Mental Health Issues, Mentioned Mary, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Dean Winchester, Reminiscing, Sam Deserves to be Happy, Sam has Nightmares, Sam is a Sweetheart, Sam's Hair, Sick Sam Winchester, Sleepy Sam, Stitches, Teenchesters, The Author Regrets Nothing, Weechesters, and dean knows it, and you'll never convince me otherwise, dean has a real nice smile, kind of, sam is a dork, srsly he will hurt you, teenage angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-11 00:03:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7866967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomsandfries/pseuds/fandomsandfries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean love each other, it's as simple as that, except when it's not. 5 times Dean doesn't say those three words, and the one time he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lost & Found

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys!! This is my first multi-chapter fanfic. There's a little bit of language but other than that it should be fine. This first chapter is not my best writing, *cringe, but hopefully my flow will get back to normal as I continue to write this. If you have any comments or suggestions feel free to talk to me in the comments! I'll try to update whenever I can, but sometimes I'm forced to interact with the real world. Thanks for reading! Enjoy <3

It’s been two, three, bordering on four days since Sam had last slept, and trust him, he is feeling every hour. Sam has been kidnapped before, but this time was just a little worse. He and Dean were fighting over something stupid, mostly because Sam was getting sick and he was trying to keep Dean from finding out. Long story short, the witch they’d been hunting in town took a fancy to him and decided that she would just lock him outside in a dirty barn until he gave into whatever she had planned for him. This wouldn’t have been all that bad, except for that it was barely March and the barn she’d locked him inside of did little to keep the chill out. He was also pretty sure she put a spell on him because he’d been trying to sleep for 3 days and so far he’d gotten nothing. The good thing was, the witch, like so many other supernatural creatures, apparently didn’t count on the appearance of a very pissed off Dean Winchester. And let it be made clear that Dean was extremely pissed off. His mother hen senses had already been at a high as they always were whenever Sam was sick, whether he’s been aware at the time of kidnapping or not, and then this bitch had the audacity to kidnap him? So yeah, Dean was not happy. She wasn’t ready when he’d shown up guns blazing. It didn’t take him long to take the witch out, and once he did it wasn’t hard for him to find Sam. 

When Dean kicks the doors in, Sam swears he almost cries in relief. He’s cold and pretty sure he’s sicker than he was before, and he really just wants to get out of this godforsaken town. “Shit Sammy!” Dean makes his way across the floor and is kneeling beside him in a matter of seconds. Dean cuts him free, and all Sam can do is slump against his big brother’s shoulder. One of Dean’s hands comes to cup the back of his head. Dean’s impossibly warm, and Sam is feeling a little drunk in the presence of him. “You’re my boy blue” Sam mumbles up against his brother’s shoulder, smiling a bit when Dean pulls him back a little so he can look into his eyes. Dean stares at him, and after a moment just shakes his head. “Are you drunk? Or just a dork?” Sam smiles and lets his forehead thump back against Dean’s collarbone, and he can’t so much as see Dean’s eye roll or smile as he can hear them. It makes this job a little more bearable sometimes, he thinks, to have his brother here at his side. 

They sit there for a moment, while Sam mentally prepares himself to get up. He briefly remembers when he’d still been small enough for Dean to pick him up. Dean used to carry him around like a teddy bear, and sometimes Sam finds himself missing the times when Dean could just sweep him into his arms and cart him to wherever he needed to go. Now Dean is no longer tall, or strong enough to pick Sam up, but he supposes that’s okay. It doesn’t really matter, because Dean’s here, and he’s not pushing Sam away. Sam is aware that he has exactly two modes when he is tired. He either gets incredibly snappy, or super clingy. Right now he’s without a doubt falling into the second category. He hasn’t felt this at peace as he feels now with his in a long time, crazy witch kidnapping aside. After a while, Dean sighs and strokes his hand through Sam’s hair one more time. “We gotta get out of here kiddo, you’re already cold enough as it is. Do you think you can work with me on the count of three?” Sam grunts against Dean’s shoulder, before he pulls back, fighting against the dizziness that accompanies the movement. Once the dizziness settles Dean grips both of Sam’s biceps and hauls him up. “Here we go,” Together they slowly make their way back to baby. They’re halfway there, Sam is moving pretty slow because of the violent shivers that are shaking his body, when he speaks up. “Wasn’t sure if you were going to come.” Dean doesn’t stop moving, but his arm tenses from where it is wrapped around Sam’s shoulders to keep him from falling. Finally, he turns his head just a little and smiles. The smile is sad, but it doesn’t matter because of what he says next. “You should know by now Sammy, I’m always going to come for you.”


	2. When The Wolf Howls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't supposed to be out today but instead of sleeping last night I wrote this! More language, and there is a mention of needles (Stitches). Enjoy this second chapter!

      “Fucking werewolves, man.” Dean winces in sympathy at the gashes on Sam’s arm. The wounds are still bleeding sluggishly from when he had grappled with the thing before Dean had been able to kill it. Sam turns to glare at him, but he can’t really, not with his face twisted up in pain like this. This hunt had basically been a bust from the beginning, and Sam wasn’t sure why he had expected to make it out unscathed. Really he should have expected this after that whole pie debacle at the diner on their first night in this podunk town. So now he was stuck in the middle of a blood-stained field that was who knows how far from the car. Dean squeezed the back of his neck before getting up, jumping out of the way when Sam half-heartedly swung a hand out to whack his ankles. “I’m going to head back to the car and bring it around, I saw a little road that swings back around that way.” Dean throws his thumb back in a general direction before he sets his critical eyes on the bleeding gashes.  
      “Keep pressure on those, will you?” Dean, being the girl scout he pretends to not be, pulls a handkerchief out of nowhere and lobs it at his head. Sam rolls his eyes at Dean’s retreating back but presses it against the wounds anyway. He winces and pull the cloth away, and realizes with annoyance that they’re going to require stitches. He presses the handkerchief back to his arm and tries to ignore both the rustling of the woods behind him and the burning in his skin. Dean takes entirely too long to get back, and by the time the Impala lights up the night behind a thin band of trees where the road must be, his arm and toes are numb and it’s well past 2am. When finally Dean comes out of the trees, flashlight in hand, he at least has the decency to look ashamed.  
      “Sorry man ran into some complications with the car, but it’s all taken care of now.” He flashes Sam the same smile he’s been smiling his whole life. It’s the same blinding grin he hands out like drug store candy to old women and pretty waitresses, and it occurs to Sam that he remembers watching Dean practice that smile in the mirror. Back when Sam was still short and scrawny, he remembers how jealous he had been with how at ease Dean was in his skin. But there were times when he was jealous of whatever girl Dean had his eyes on at the moment. Sometimes Sam still feels that way, when the grocery store clerk slips an extra snicker into the bag, or when the blonde dyed coffee shop girl hands Dean a free donut and a wink. It doesn’t really matter Sam thinks, because while they might get to have a glimpse of his brother and his beautiful bright smile, but Sam gets to have all of him. He gets to have the annoying parts, and the drunk parts, the angry and sad parts. He’s seen Dean at his absolute happiest, and at his worst, but he’s been there for pretty much all of it. So she might get to slip him an extra candy bar, but Sam is always going to get to share it with him.  
      They make it back to the motel room in less than twenty minutes, and Dean takes one look at Sam’s pale face and practically throws him into the room. “Shit, man, why didn’t you tell me it was that bad? I would've stitched you up before we came back!” Dean pushes Sam down until he’s sitting beside the rickety desk on the even more rickety chair.  
      “ ‘s not that bad De, really ’m fine.” Dean levels him with a look and rolls his eyes as he threads the needle. “Uhuh Sammy, sure. Knew I shoulda looked closer. Shoulda known you’d rather fuckin bleed out on me than tell me when something's wrong.” Sam frowns and opens his mouth to speak but is shushed and handed a bottle of jack. “Drink that and shut up.” Dean waits until Sam has taken a decent gulp before he slides the needle into the skin on Sam’s forearm. “Alright Kiddo, here we go.” Sam lets his head drop heavy against his chest as he closes his eyes against the pain. They’ve been stitching each other up since they were kids, and this time is no different but it never really gets any easier.  
      “It’s not because I don’t want to tell you stuff you know,” Sam says slowly, reaching up with his free hand to touch the top of Dean’s head where it’s bowed down so that he can see what he’s doing.  
      “Shhhhh” Dean murmurs, but Sam can hear the grin is his voice.  
      “No, Dean, I‘m serious! It’s ‘cus I don’t want you to worry. You’re always worrying about me.” Sam finishes and lets his head drop back down.  
      “Sam,” Dean sighs as he ties off the last stitch “I’m always going to worry about you, it’s my job.” Sam looks up as Dean sits back so they can make eye contact.  
      “I thought your job was keeping me safe?” Dean rolls his eyes and gently thumps Sam on the side of the head.  
      “It is, and I can’t do that if you don’t tell me things, ok? You give me gray hairs when you keep things from me.” Sam snorts as Dean stands to move the three steps it takes to get to the bathroom.  
     “You’ve already got gray hairs old man.” But he’s smiling and so is Dean.  
The next day they sleep in until twelve o’clock and eat donuts on the way to their next job. They roll the windows down to let the smell of blood that still permeates the car from the night before air out. And, in true Dean Winchester style they leave the town behind to the sound of 80’s rock.


	3. The Road So Far

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean reflects on his life, he and Sam have been together forever and Dean has loved Sam through all of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3rd chapter! Sorry this chapter took a little bit longer, but I started school this week so chapters will probably be coming a bit slower. It's a little different? I don't know, but I'm actually very pleased with this chapter, so I might post it on it's own after a bit of work-shopping. Anyway, I hope you're enjoying this so far! <3

           “Are you happy?” The words felt like a stab in Dean’s gut. In that moment, all he felt was the overwhelming desire to tear the whole world apart with his bare hands, to rip this old building right from the ground, to scream, because he’d been asked this question for over 20 years.  
“Are you happy?” He’s 8 years old, his teacher’s voice still ringing in his ears as the wheels of the car eat up the ground. The distance between him and that little Missouri town grows, but her voice still resonates in his mind. He’s bone-tired from nights spent cleaning up after Sammy because he’s too little to do it himself, and doing his homework because Uncle Bobby always said that it was important. His stomach is empty, it’s been 700+ miles since they last ate, but Daddy said to keep quiet because he had a headache, so Dean doesn't say anything. Dean looks down at Sam’s little head, tucked up close to his chest. The sky outside of the car windows is dark, and Daddy’s music is playing softly in the background. Dean presses his lips to the top of Sammy’s head like Mommy used to do for him before he fell asleep, and rested his cheek against his curly hair. “We’ll be okay Sammy, as long as we’ve got each other.” He closes his eyes and falls asleep, his little teeth worrying his bottom lip as his father drives on into the night.

           “But are you happy?” Dean is 16, all lean muscle, cocky grin, and badass aura. He’s every girl’s dream guy and every teacher's worst nightmare. He works in a car shop 3 nights a week, and while this adds to his overall appeal, he doesn’t have the job for kicks. Now that they’re older, Dad has started leaving them alone for months at a time. Dean needs his job to keep him and Sam afloat. Sam is starting to get to that age where everything he says begins with: “Dean why…” the questions aren’t always innocent, and sometimes the whys turn to wheres and how comes and “Dean when is Dad coming home?” Dean has never felt older or more responsible, and when one of his girlfriends asks him seriously if he is happy, he has to pause for a moment.

           “Are you happy here?” Sam is screaming at him, face red with anger, but all Dean can see is the dark bags under his eyes and the painful bruise that is peeking out from under Sam’s shirt. Now Sam is the one who’s sixteen, he’s getting taller every day, but with all that new height comes a lot of extra anger. Sam is angry all the time now, it’s directed more at their father and the world than it is at Dean, but as he is pretty much the only person that is consistently with Sam all of the time, sometimes his teenage rage is turned on his older brother. It’s hard sometimes, being basically a single parent at only 20, but he can say that he wouldn’t give it up for anything. Even when Sam’s mood swings are worse than a pregnant lady's, even when the fighting gets to a point where Dean wants to just get in the impala and put a brick on the gas pedal, even on the bad days, he still wouldn’t give it up. Sometimes in the safety of the night, he’ll ask himself why. And the only answer he can ever come up with is the image of a little Sam clinging to him in a new town, Sam wrapped around his back as they trudge up the side of a mountain. He can hear Sam, barely two years old, the first time he ever spoke Dean’s name, the first time he ever spoke anything really. He remembers the look on their father’s face when Sam had held out his chubby little hands and shrieked full of childish glee, “De!” it had been a look of pain, and Dean remembers thinking maliciously that it was right of Sam to say Dean’s name first. In his worst moments, when he is the bad kind of drunk where all of your feelings are in the forefront of your mind and you can acknowledge them, he still feels that way. He gets incredibly angry when he thinks about it, because of course, Sam said his name first! Dean raised that kid from the time he was six months old, and really, Dean gets it. John lost the love of his life that night. However, that doesn’t change the fact that he basically abandoned Dean to raise a child by himself. And of course, Dean doesn’t regret it. How could he? Sam is his whole world, he never wants to see him hurting, and all their father ever did was hurt them.

           The next time someone asks him if he is happy he is closer to 30 than 20 and sick of hearing this damn question. This time, though, as he pulls away from the bunker he thinks he can actually answer it. He looks down at Sam who is already sleeping in the passenger seat, his breath rumbling quietly and each solitary inhale swinging a piece of hair back and forth. Dean smiles, as he feels a rush of fondness swarm through his body, he checks to make sure Sam is really asleep before he reaches out and brushes the hair away from his cheeks. Sometimes it’s hard for him to believe that he’s actually here. That Sam is here beside him, relatively safe. The careful touch grounds him, and for a moment Dean just closes his eyes and smiles. After a moment, Dean hits the gas and starts down another endless road, eventually, he turns on the radio and turns to some soft rock station. He sings softly along as baby continues down the road with his baby brother by his side. As he drives he thinks, by the light of the few streetlamps and the sound of Sam’s rattling breaths, that that the answer to that question will always be yes if he has Sam by his side.


	4. "Hey Jude"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does it even count as a song fic when it's Hey Jude and the Winchesters? Dean gets Sam back, they spend the night on a graveyard ground, and angsty fluff ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Here is the 4th chapter. I hope you enjoy, there are some pretty brutal nightmares, but other than that it should be good. See you guys in the comments!

_ Hey Jude, don't make it bad _

_ Take a sad song and make it better _

_ Remember to let her into your heart _

_ Then you can start to make it better _

 

Dean looks down at his little brother, as he fights to keep his emotions in check. Sam’s skin is pale, his hair greasy, there are multiple cuts and bruises lining his arms and ribs, and he’s got a broken ankle, but he’s here, alive in Dean’s arms where he should be. Dean bends his neck to press his forehead against Sam’s, and for the first time in a long time, he feels as if he can breathe. They sit there, surrounded by the smell of sulfur, and the remains of a brutal battle with a group of vengeful demons who thought that they could take out both of the Winchesters. Like always, though, they underestimated the boys. Unfortunately, it had taken Dean a week to locate the demons who had taken Sam. 

 

_ Hey Jude, don't be afraid _

_ You were made to go out and get her _

_ The minute you let her under your skin _

_ Then you begin to make it better     _

 

Dean sighs and pulls back so he can wipe at a streak of dirt on Sam’s cheek. “Of course, it was you, it’s always you.” Dean shakes his head and tilts his face up toward the moon and bites his lips. The swell of emotion that floods his body wraps a fist around his lungs and brings a lump to his throat. He’s not going to cry, not here now, not when Sam is safe and alive. The thing is this particular kidnapping comes just on the heels of something much worse, and Sam’s mental health was a little questionable beforehand. Sam twitched, and suddenly starts to twist and turn, he cries out and starts to cry in his sleep. Dean holds him closer and starts to murmur. He doesn’t want to wake him up if he can help it, he wants him to stay asleep until Cas gets back with the car so he can take him back to the motel room and fix him up enough to get to the bunker where Sam can take the time to heal. So instead of shaking him awake, he just rocked him back and forth on the ground. Once it became apparent that Dean’s mutters were only kind of helping, he started to panic a little bit. Once Sam woke up, it was going to be an ordeal to get him back to sleep. 

 

_ And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain _

_ Don't carry the world upon your shoulders _

_ For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool _

_ By making his world a little colder _

  
  
  


Dean knew what he had to do. The words to the song came easily as ever. He keeps rocking and singing softly, thinking back to when Mary would to the same thing to help him sleep. Just like always Sam slowly falls back into sleep. The shaking eventually slows and his whimpers quiet down until he is lying limply in Dean’s lap once again. It’s funny, Dean thinks, that after all these years the song still works. He remembers the first time he’d rocked Sam back to sleep. Dean couldn't have been more than 5 because he remembers thinking that if mommy was still here she would know why Sam was crying so much. John was gone that night, he’d left them alone for the night in a decrepit motel room, not any different than the ones they’d spent their whole lives in, and Sam had woke Dean up with his crying. Dean sighed as he came towards the end of the song, that night he had stayed up all night rocking Sam, and wishing that his mommy had been there to hug him and tell him everything was okay. Dean smiles a little, over 25 years later and he’s still rocking Sam to sleep. 

 

_ Hey Jude, don't let me down _

_ You have found her, now go and get her _

_ Remember to let her into your heart _

_ Then you can start to make it better _

 

By the time Cas appears with the car Dean has cycled through Hey Jude too many times to count, his back and ass are aching something awful from sitting on the ground his giant of a little brother in his lap, and he is falling asleep. He reaches up with one hand to block his eyes from the painful glare of the headlights, sighing in relief as he sees the familiar angel step out of the driver's seat. He approaches with the flashlight and stares down at them. “Is Samuel well?” Dean blinks and looks back at Sam who has tucked his head further into Dean’s stomach to avoid the light. Sighing Dean runs a hand through his hair and shrugs, “Physically? It could be much worse. Mentally and emotionally?” Dean stares down at the part of Sam’s head that he can see and forces all emotion down as far as he can. “Cas,” Despite his best attempts Dean’s voice still comes out a little broken. “I don’t know if he can ever recover from this. But, whatever happens, I’ll be here and we’ll deal with it together.” Dean isn’t talking to Cas now, his words are solely for Sam. Even though he is still very much asleep tension still drains from his body, as if he can hear Dean’s words even while asleep. Dean smiles faintly down at the boy that’s been his for almost as long as he can remember, as sighs. “Let’s get out of here.” 

 

_ So let it out and let it in, hey Jude, begin _

_ You're waiting for someone to perform with _

_ And don't you know that it's just you, hey Jude, you'll do _

_ The movement you need is on your shoulder _

 

That night when Sam wakes screaming from nightmares, Dean is there. He holds Sam in his arms for the second time in less than twelve hours. He tells him stories until the screams stop, and then sings his mother's song until Sam settles back into sleep. Dean sits beside Sam all night, carding his fingers through Sam’s too long hair. in the morning he can barely keep his eyes open, and his voice is shot to hell, but he doesn’t regret it. Especially when Sam wakes the next morning and looks up at him. His voice is almost as broken as Dean’s is when he lifts a shaky hand to touch his big brother’s cheek and whispers the only word that sound right in the hellfire of his brain. “Dean?” 

 

_ Hey Jude, don't make it bad _

_ Take a sad song and make it better _

_ Remember to let her under your skin _

_ Then you'll begin to make it _

_ Better  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked that! The last chapter is coming soon. I'm always up for comments or suggestions. Thanks for reading!  
> <3<3<3 fandomsandfries


	5. I Love You Always

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a lifetime of loud moments, the boys settle back into the bunker in the midst of a quiet moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! I'm so sorry it took so long to get this chapter out, but now that it's here I hope you enjoy it. All mistakes are mine, but the characters are not. <3 fandomsandfries

It’s funny, Dean thinks sometimes, that after everything they’ve been through, that they never seem to talk to each other. Sure they speak, and joke, but when it comes down to it they never really  _ talk _ . He knows that it’s mostly his fault, but he can’t help but wonder why he was so opposed to chick-flick moments. And now, as he sits here cradling his broken brother’s head in his arms, he can’t help but think that he could have lost him, without every really telling him how he feels. It cuts into Dean’s soul in a way that most things couldn't, because this is Sam he’s talking about. This is the boy he’d taken into his arms at 4 years old, and never quite put down. This is the boy he’d been pulling close, the boy he’s been singing to sleep, the boy he’s been loving, for almost all of his life, and he could've died, without knowing how much his big brother loves him. So no, they don’t really talk, but, Dean thinks, that’s going to have to change. A tiny voice in the back of his head wonders if anything will change, a louder voice wonders if they can even get back to how it was before. Back to when they touched freely, and loved openly, without these barriers built up around them. 

When they were little, they’d been incredibly tactile with each other, in fact they'd only stopped talking and touching each other because John Had demanded it. They must’ve slept in the same bed until Sam was 14, when John pulled Dean aside and told him that if he didn’t stop babying his baby brother he was going to get him killed. Dean remembers how mad he had been, but, an orders and order and Dean hadn’t been to the point where he could deny his father anything yet. Now, Dean sees it for what it was, a ploy for power, a manipulative way to keep both children under his thumb. He’s not angry at his father anymore, he’s just sad that John was so wrapped up in his quest for justice that he’d wasted the time he had with his remaining family. Now Dean is mostly angry at himself, because he’d let his father drive a spike between him and his brother, and now Dean has over 20 years of making up to do. But Dean knows now that this is what needs to happen in order for him to keep his brother here, alive, with him. He needs to get over it and actually talk to Sam, maybe even hug him once in awhile. 

In the end the damage could’ve been worse, a broken leg, some mental abuse, and a hell of a lot of bruises for Sam. A cracked wrist for Dean, along with some deep cuts along his ribs, means that Dean is going to doing what he does best for the next month or two, taking care of his little brother. They’re back in the bunker after a quick break from a hospital a state away, Sam is doped out on pain meds, and Dean is as tired as it gets. Dean muscles Sam into the door and down into the living room. Sighing he heads back to the car so he can grab both duffel bags and all of Sam’s various medications. He heads back in, surprised when he sees Sam struggling to sit up. “Hey,” He frowns and lifts his hand to block his eyes from the light. Dean moves to stand in the way of the light, and is gratified with a small small. “When did we get back? Did,” Sam scrubs at his stubble and and wrinkled his nose. “Did you drive the whole way?” Dean has to work to hide the fond smile that threatens to break free at the sound of Sam’s sleepy voice. Instead, he raises his eyebrows and smirks, “Are you sure you don’t want me to grab the scissors from the kit and take  little off the top?” Sam looks confused for a minute, before he pulls out his signature bitch-face 27. “Shut up Dean. Can you get me a glass of water?” Dean’s plan backfired though, because now Dean just feels endlessly grateful that Sam is still here to pull bitch-faces. He shakes his head, and turns toward the kitchen. “Sure, Sammy” He disappears into the kitchen, as Sam flops back onto the couch. 

Dean heads back to the living room, and in a moment of weakness runs his hands through Sam’s admittedly greasy, hair. It’s amazing frankly, how quickly Sam melts into the touch, and it occurs to Dean that Sam probably hasn’t been sleeping well, if at all. There was a time where Sam would point blank refuse to sleep without Dean next to him, now Dean wonders what the likelihood of getting his brother to let him in would be. Sam leans back as Dean runs his fingers through again, and honest to god  _ purrs,  _ when Dean does the little scratching thing at the back of his neck that he’d picked up from his mom when he was little. Dean smiles softly as Sam sinks into the couch cusians at the pressure on his scalp, and vows that one of these days he’s going to give his little brother a message and watch as he crumbles. That thought makes him pause, but he’s spent years denying himself the simple pleasure of touching, and he’s not going to back out now. He finally pulls away and moves around the table in front of the couch as he sets the water down. Dean leans forward to help Sam sit up, and the lack of bitching on Sam’s part tells him how bad he must be feeling. “Drink your water so you can go to bed, okay sasquatch?” 

It’s a funny thing, Dean thinks, how easy it is to fall back into little habits. He and Sam haven’t touched each other casually since he left for Stanford, but now he can already feel his own skin growing accustomed to it. Sam finishes off the glass of water and places it back into Dea’s waiting hand. After a short trip to the kitchen, Dean heads back and settles into his perch once more. “How are you feeling Sam?” Dan settles his hands on his knees and looks at his little brother. It takes Sam a minute to answer, and it hits Dean hard  in the gut while he’s waiting, because Sam hasn’t looked this bad since the  _ trials _ . His hair falls limply over his gaut cheeks, his clothes hang off of him, and his skin is painfully pale. Dean would never admit this, but it honestly breaks his heart to see Sam like this. It shattered parts of his soul that were already broken, and it kills Dean to know that he’ failed his kid again. He knows that Sam would tell him that it’s not his fault, but somehow Dean can’t quite believe it. It has to be Dean’s fault, he’s the big brother, his job has always been to take care of Sam.  _ It’s the one thing he’s good at.  _ Of course, now he’s not so sure. 

He’s pulled out of his thoughts when Sam lets out of huf of air. “I don’t, I don’t know right now Dean.” Sam looks up at him from under the hair in his face and blinks. Dean drops his eyes to his hands before he leans out to touch Sam’s shoulder. “That’s fine Sam, and I’ll be here to help you figure it out ok?” And apparently that’s exactly what Sam needs to hear because he bursts into tears. It’s a well known fact that Sam is the more emotional Winchester brother, that being said, he doesn’t really cry. In fact Dean doesn’t think Sam has cried more than a few unintentional tears at midnight in over ten years. So to say this was surprising was an understatement. After a few seconds of initial panic, Dean realizes that there’s not really much he should, or really can do. Instead he just takes Sam in his arms and holds him there while his little brother lets out the years and years of pent up emotions they both have. It’s been a hard few months, scratch that, it’s been a hard few years, and if there’s anything Sam deserves it’s this: One quiet moment out of a lifetime of loud ones. Just him and his brother in the safety of the bunker they’ve made theirs. And in quieting sound of Sam’s sobs, Dean whispers the only thing he’s ever really known, to the boy who’s always been with him. “I love, I love you, I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done! My first multi-chapter fic! A huge thanks to everyone who left kudos or bookmarked, that's what inspires me to keep writing. I'm always looking for tips and tricks, so feel free to comment! So much love, <3 <3 fandomsandfries

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys are enjoying this! Kudos and comments make my day! I'm open to suggestions on how to improve, thanks for reading! (These are not my characters sadly, I don't own them and I'm only borrowing them for a bit.) If you guys want to check ou my tumblr you can find me at the same name, I don't post a whole lot but I'm going to try to start!  
> <3 <3 Fandomsandfries


End file.
